


time is not so long when I'm with you

by raspberrylimonade



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9571886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raspberrylimonade/pseuds/raspberrylimonade
Summary: Where instead of being killed in the blast, Jyn and Cassian are transported to LA in the early 2000s where Cassian becomes a retailer for home appliances (based on an interview with Diego and Felicity) and Jyn becomes a fitness instructor.





	

Something snags her waist when she tries to roll out of bed.

Jyn lets out a long sigh. She has to get out of bed soon, as tempting as this is.

“I have an early shift today,” she grumbles. “Don’t make it harder for me to get up.”

“It’s Saturday,” a voice behind her yawns. “No one gets up this early during the weekend.”

Something - someone - shifts on the bed behind her. A few seconds later there is a warmth spanning her back, and a hot breath on her neck.

She knows she can’t stay in bed forever, but she allows herself to lean back and enjoy the presence of the body behind her. Just for a few moments.

The soft _beep_  their bedside chrono (or _clock,_ as they call it in this place and time) makes every five minutes prevents her from dozing off again. Reluctantly, Jyn blinks her eyes open and pushes the arm around her aside.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s not like you haven’t taken an early weekend shift before.”

She yawns as she sits up, and reaches her arms upwards, interlacing her fingers so the stretch loosen her shoulders. She turns around when she’s done and is greeted with the sight of Cassian, face down on the bed and nearly buried in the pillows and thick covers, but with his head turned to look at her through bleary eyes.

The corners of her lips pull up slightly. “Good morning,” she says softly.

Cassian returns her lazy smile, but then buries his face into the pillow and mumbles something about true good mornings and waking up on your own.

Jyn pushes the covers aside and swings her legs over the side of the bed to get up. The thing is, she’s programmed herself to wake early, even if she keeps her eyes shut and relishes lying in bed. It must be nice to be able to sleep in without a worry or care, but she didn’t have that luxury in prison and it’s something she may carry for the rest of her life.

She’s been so guarded all her life that sleep is hard for her. Cassian, on the other hand, can simply drop his head and nap anytime, anywhere. She imagines it’s because of his work in the rebellion, always travelling, having to make do with sleeping for short spans between missions. As terrible as being imprisoned was, at least she had a regular sleep schedule.

She glances back one last time at the man beside her, takes in his bare shoulders, the only part of him that’s still visible beneath the covers and amongst their pillows, then she steps out of bed.

* * *

Later when he’s at work she surprises him by turning up with lunch.

There are round tables scattered around the department store for the sales people to sort out the details of larger purchases, such as couches, heaters and _refrigerators_. (Cassian had a field day teaching her to say the Earth word for cooling chambers.) The general store rule is that these tables are not meant for patrons’ lounging, but the employees in the electrical appliances section recognise Jyn and usually let her sit whenever she’s around. In return, she vacates when someone needs to close a sale. No such situation arises today, so Cassian finds her reading a brochure about a new thermajug - or _thermos_. Then his eyes travel to the plastic bag on the table, which no doubt contains takeout.

“Is it my birthday?”

Her head snaps up at his voice, and she rises to meet him.

“I have a three hour break,” she says as way of explanation. “There’s tortellini and red rice. Pick one.”

“Con lima?” he asks.

“Con lima,” she confirms.

A grin spreads across his face. It feels good to smile genuinely, something he’s learnt in the last three years. He gestures for her to follow him as he tells her, “You know I can’t resist Mexican.”

They walk shoulder to shoulder to the door labelled ‘STAFF ONLY’. They weave through a crowd watching some demonstration, and Cassian briefly recalls the time he and Jyn spent scouring cities, looking for Saw Gerrera. How he always had a hand hovering near her elbow or her back, in case she tried to run or Imperial operatives attempted to snatch her.

It is still astounding how Earth seems so far away from all the turmoil they’ve known. He wonders exactly how far away they are that this planet is out of the Empire’s reach. He has not been able to find out. Earth does not seem to know much of the galaxy beyond its own system, blissfully unaware of what rages on in the abyss of space.

The employees’ backroom is like a hangar, but with desks and cabinets instead of parking spaces for the spaceships and fighter jets. Cassian has a small desk where he can fill up sales documents before submitting them, tucked away in a small alcove shared with an older coworker. The first time Jyn visited his workplace, she walked past his desk a few times without noticing him. Now though, she knows exactly how to find it, and helps herself to the fold-out chair he keeps around for occasions like this.

They sit across from each other, eating and chatting as if life has always been this simple, that they weren’t thrown together in an interstellar explosion and transplanted here by another. She tells him about the new ‘zumba’ class her gym intends to offer, and he jokes about her teaching it.

“It can’t be more different from kickboxing,” she argues, referring to the class she teaches.

“It’s aero with dancing!” he replies through a mouthful of rice. “You sub for aero and I’d like to see you dance.” He swallows his food and raises his brows at her. “If you register to take a class, I’ll sign up for this ‘zumba’.”

Jyn scoffs at him and forks another green dumpling. “It’s a _women’s only_  gym, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I can grow my hair out,” he answers without thinking. “No one will notice.”

She _snorts_. She actually snorts, and has to press the back of her hand to her mouth to stop herself from spitting food out.

“You’re crazy,” she mutters once she’s composed.

“Heard that before.”

“Doesn’t make you less crazy.”

“So you live with a whacko. One could say you’re crazy too.”

“Luckily I love you, right?”

There’s a pregnant pause. _Love_. This feeling they share, throughout all these years trying to find their way around a whole new life, it’s always been understood. But it’s rare that they say it out loud.

He gazes at her across the tiny desk. She is hard and fierce and he knows that all too well, but moments like this he gets to see she can be soft as well. His hand slides across the wooden desktop to cover hers.

“Goes both ways.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr (raspberrylimonade) and twitter (stlnskissmartin).


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